Australia Reasserts Test Supremacy with a Commanding Victory Over South Africa

The much-anticipated Test series between Australia and South Africa—hailed as the unofficial championship of Test cricket—began with an emphatic statement from the visitors. Australia recorded their second-largest victory in 60 Tests against a South African side that had not suffered an innings defeat since their loss to England at Durban in the 1964-65 season. However, beyond the sheer scale of Australia's triumph, this match will be remembered for a historic and record-breaking partnership between Steve Waugh and Greg Blewett, a stand that spanned three days and rendered South Africa helpless.

A Battle of Strategy and Selection

The home side made notable changes to their XI, recalling Jonty Rhodes and Jacques Kallis to reinforce the batting lineup, while Andrew Hudson was preferred as an opener over Adam Bacher. Injury forced out all-rounder Brian McMillan, leaving South Africa somewhat vulnerable in their balance. Australia, too, had to adjust their squad. With Paul Reiffel unavailable due to injury, Jason Gillespie was promoted to share the new ball with Glenn McGrath. This shift resulted in Michael Bevan batting at No. 7 and Ian Healy being pushed down to No. 8, seemingly leaving Australia a bowler short. However, any concerns about their bowling depth were swiftly dispelled as the match unfolded.

From the outset, Australia dictated the game, imposing their authority in 12 of the 13 sessions. Their bowlers exploited South Africa’s vulnerabilities with ruthless efficiency, and when it was their turn to bat, they turned the game into an exhibition of dominance.

McGrath’s Masterclass and Richardson’s Lone Resistance

Glenn McGrath, ever the architect of South African discomfort, delivered a mesmerizing opening spell of 10-4-10-3, dismantling the hosts' top order with characteristic precision. South Africa stumbled to 195 for 8, with only Hansie Cronje's fighting 76 providing any measure of resistance. The frailties of the South African top order were brutally exposed, their struggles against high-quality pace bowling once again laid bare.

Just when a complete capitulation seemed inevitable, wicketkeeper Dave Richardson, long accustomed to salvaging lost causes, launched a defiant counterattack. His unbeaten 72 off 87 balls, studded with ten fours and a six, propelled South Africa to a somewhat respectable 302. His shepherding of the tail, particularly in stands of 58 with Allan Donald and 49 with Paul Adams, delayed the inevitable but could not prevent Australia from heading into their innings with a firm grip on the match. The only moment Australia seemed to miss a third specialist seamer was during this late resistance, but it proved inconsequential in the grander scheme. Healy’s five dismissals behind the stumps epitomized the control Australia exerted.

Australia’s Ruthless Response

Australia's innings began with an early setback when Mark Taylor, in an unfortunate moment, played on against Shaun Pollock. However, beyond that stroke of misfortune, South Africa’s renowned pace attack found little joy on an unusually slow pitch. Donald briefly rekindled hope when he dismissed Mark Waugh and Matthew Elliott—whose graceful strokeplay drew comparisons to David Gower—within the space of three deliveries.

That flurry of wickets brought Greg Blewett to the crease to join Steve Waugh, a partnership that would soon crush South Africa’s resolve. Rain curtailed play early, but what followed over the next two days would become the defining feature of the match. The second day belonged entirely to Waugh and Blewett, as they became only the tenth pair in Test history to bat through an entire day, an exclusive club last joined by Taylor and Australia’s coach Geoff Marsh, who had put on 301 runs on the first day of the Trent Bridge Test in 1989.

On the third day, South Africa’s bowlers toiled fruitlessly. Blewett compiled a meticulous 153, and Waugh a typically resilient 123, extending Australia’s stranglehold on the match. Waugh, ever the embodiment of grit, suffered leg cramps after tea but refused to leave the field, embodying the fighting spirit that defined his career. The partnership continued to flourish, yielding 385 runs—the second-highest fifth-wicket stand in Test history and the highest against South Africa, eclipsing the 370-run stand between Bill Edrich and Denis Compton at Lord’s in 1947.

Blewett’s eventual score of 214, amassed over 519 minutes from 421 deliveries, with 34 boundaries, was a masterpiece of patience and shot selection. Waugh’s 160, crafted over 501 minutes from 366 balls with 22 fours, was a study in tenacity. Their marathon effort ensured Australia’s complete control over proceedings. Taylor’s declaration set South Africa a daunting task, granting his bowlers a minimum of 138 overs to claim ten wickets, though they required barely half that.

Australia’s Inevitable Triumph

With South Africa facing a monumental challenge to salvage the match, Jacques Kallis stood as the lone beacon of resistance, defending resolutely for nearly three hours. But the force of the game had already shifted irreversibly in Australia’s favor. Steve Waugh, now influencing the match beyond his batting, executed a brilliant run-out to dismiss Hudson before trapping Cronje down the leg side. The writing was on the wall

From that point, Warne and Bevan dismantled the rest of the lineup with clinical efficiency. The final seven wickets fell for a mere 40 runs, with Bevan claiming four wickets for just two runs in a devastating 12-ball spell. His left-arm wrist spin, often overlooked, was as perplexing to the South African batsmen as Warne’s renowned leg-spin. The pair’s combined match figures—87.4 overs, 28 maidens, 207 runs conceded, and 12 wickets taken—stood in stark contrast to Paul Adams’ weary toil, which yielded just one wicket for 163 runs.

Silence in the Stands, Changes on the Horizon

If South Africa’s performance on the field was harrowing, the reaction in the stands was equally telling. Less than 60,000 spectators bore witness to their team’s unravelling, their silence speaking volumes. The air of dejection was palpable, a stark contrast to the usual fervour associated with South African crowds.

This defeat was not just comprehensive; it was humbling. South Africa had entered the series with aspirations of challenging Australia’s supremacy, yet they found themselves thoroughly outplayed in every department. As the team regrouped in the aftermath of this crushing loss, changes for the Second Test were not merely a possibility—they were an absolute necessity.

 Thank You

Faisal Caesar 

The Myth and Reality of Shahid Afridi: Pakistan’s Last Folk Hero

Shahid Afridi's popularity is an enigma, one that cannot be measured in mere records or statistics. He was not just a cricketer but a phenomenon, a cultural touchstone who embodied the aspirations, contradictions, and chaotic brilliance of Pakistan. If we were to trace his significance, we might say he was the first cricketing superstar born in an era when the sport had no competition in the nation's imagination. No longer did hockey, squash, or even cinema command the public’s adulation—cricket had become the singular heartbeat of Pakistan, and Afridi was its most unpredictable, most exhilarating rhythm. 

His arrival felt almost prophetic, as if Pakistan cricket had always been waiting for someone like him—a fresh-faced teenager plucked from obscurity, conquering the world at the first time of asking. The image of that 37-ball century in Nairobi became frozen in time, playing out in the collective memory of millions. His legend was built not just on what he did but on what he represented: a figure of uncompromised innocence, an untamed force of nature. Yet to reduce Afridi to innocence alone would be naïve.  

The Power of Popularity

Afridi's popularity translated into power, a rare commodity in Pakistan cricket. The sport has seen chairmen, selectors, and captains rise and fall with the frequency of tides, yet Afridi stood immune to the same forces that undid others. When Ijaz Butt, the then PCB chairman, survived scandals that would have buried lesser men—including a terrorist attack on a visiting team and the spot-fixing saga—it was not moral outrage, political pressure, or even media scrutiny that finally unseated him. It was Afridi. When he declared that he would not return to cricket until Butt was removed, the writing was on the wall. Afridi remained. Butt did not. 

His influence extended beyond cricket. When Pakistan’s army chief, a figure routinely listed among the most powerful people in the world, learned that Afridi was in town, he cleared his schedule for a meeting. Imran Khan, the nation's most celebrated cricketer turned political leader, pleaded for Afridi’s endorsement, leveraging ethnic ties to appeal to him. Afridi declined. His people still adored him. Even in matters of life and death, where militant extremism made it dangerous to support polio vaccination efforts, Afridi's involvement managed to sidestep controversy. His charisma could penetrate the hardest ideological barriers. 

The Afridi Equation: Chaos or Conspiracy?

The temptation to frame Afridi and Misbah-ul-Haq as opposites—instinct versus discipline, chaos versus control—is simplistic. Afridi is not misunderstood because he defies definition but because he is constantly defined in opposition to others. Some see him as a perfect random-number generator, where patterns emerge only by statistical inevitability. But is he truly random? 

We know his batting: a reckless heave at the first or second ball, a dab to third man if he’s feeling generous, and an inevitable dismissal that purists find infuriating. His career average remained astonishingly stable—by his 30th ODI, it was 23.5, and it barely moved for over 350 more matches. This suggests not randomness but a calculated equilibrium. He knew when to succeed—just enough to keep faith alive. His bowling, on the other hand, was a study in adaptation, improving over time, and stabilizing when his batting remained erratic. 

If Afridi’s batting failures seemed inevitable, his rare moments of restraint—Sharjah in 2011, the 2009 World T20 final—revealed a different truth. He could be patient. He could be precise. He simply chose not to be. Was it a lack of ability, or was it self-preservation? Did he refuse to evolve because evolution might erode the myth? 

The Decision That Defined Him

Nowhere is this contradiction clearer than in his decision to retire from Test cricket. By 2006, he was flourishing as a Test all-rounder, averaging over 30 with the bat and offering match-winning spells with the ball. And yet, in 2006, with Pakistan’s greatest format within his grasp, he walked away, citing pressure and expectations. He returned briefly but played just one more Test. Why abandon a future that promised substance for a format that traded in spectacle? 

Perhaps the answer lies in how people perceive themselves. When faced with the opportunity to transcend, we often cling to the version of ourselves that is easier to understand. Afridi, a cricketer who could have been many things, chose to be what the people already believed him to be. The decision to leave Test cricket, rather than elevating himself, entrenched his image as the ultimate ODI and T20 firebrand. 

And yet, even in that format, he played a balancing act. His bowling carried him when his batting faltered. His numbers fluctuated wildly, always falling back into place just before his reputation crumbled entirely. Was this luck, or was it the work of a man who knew exactly when to deliver? 

The Absence of Suspicion

One of the most remarkable aspects of Afridi’s career is the absence of fixing allegations against him. In Pakistan, where accusations of match-fixing are as routine as match reports, Afridi remains curiously untouched. Every great player—Wasim, Waqar, Inzamam, Imran—has faced whispers, yet Afridi has emerged unscathed. 

This is not because he was above suspicion. His batting failures were often ridiculous, his shot selection laughable, his dismissals predictable. And yet, in a nation conditioned to view incompetence as corruption, Afridi was given the benefit of the doubt. We never saw his failures as sinister because, deep down, we saw ourselves in them. 

The Last Folk Hero

In Saad Shafqat’s words, the Pakistani psyche is shaped by “laziness, impatience, and latent brilliance.” Afridi embodies all three. He does not represent what Pakistan aspires to be but what it already is—reckless, impulsive, inexplicably brilliant at just the right moment. 

Where India had Tendulkar and Australia had Bradman—icons who reflected their nations' discipline and ambition—Pakistan had Afridi, a man whose genius was intermittent, whose failures were familiar, and whose appeal was primal. He was not loved for his achievements but for the promise of what he could achieve. 

His legend is not a story of greatness fulfilled, but of greatness glimpsed—just enough to keep hope alive. And that, more than any six he ever hit, is why Afridi remains immortal.

Virat Kohli: The Architect of a High Voltage Era in Indian Cricket

Captained in 68 Test matches.  

Won 40 of them.  

Scored 5,884 runs as captain at a formidable average of 54.80, with 20 centuries.  

But numbers, while impressive, only skim the surface of what Virat Kohli truly represented. In the grand theatre of sports, legendary captains transcend statistics. They mould legacies—ones that resonate beyond victories, embedding themselves into the hearts of fans and foes alike. Kohli was such a captain—a force that redefined Indian cricket not just by results but by attitude and ambition.  

From the moment he led India in his first Test match at Adelaide in 2014, Kohli embodied something greater than leadership. He became a symbol of belief—hope personified in flesh and blood. In that historic Adelaide game, chasing a daunting target, he didn’t play to survive; he played to win. Though Australia narrowly escaped his pursuit, Kohli’s intent was unmistakable: Indian cricket would no longer be content with playing it safe. It was the dawn of a new era—one where dreams, however impossible, were worth chasing.  

Kohli’s captaincy echoed the spirit of Mansur Ali Khan Pataudi’s defiant elegance and Sourav Ganguly’s relentless audacity. But it added something distinct—a fearless aggression that demanded excellence not only from batters and spinners but, crucially, from fast bowlers.  

Revolutionizing India's Bowling Arsenal  

Historically, Indian cricket was known for spin wizardry. The off-breaks of Erapalli Prasanna, the guile of Bishan Singh Bedi, and later the magic of Anil Kumble kept India competitive in home conditions. Even Kapil Dev, a rare fast-bowling genius, was the exception, not the template. India’s bowling identity remained rooted in the turning pitches of Chennai and Kanpur.  

When Kohli took over as full-time captain in 2015, spinners like Ravichandran Ashwin and Ravindra Jadeja remained central figures. But Kohli understood that to conquer cricket’s final frontier—victory in conditions abroad—India’s bowling needed evolution. The key was pace. And under Kohli’s leadership, Indian cricket witnessed a revolution.  

In partnership with head coach Ravi Shastri, Kohli backed a new breed of fast bowlers, turning them from supporting acts into lead protagonists. Mohammed Shami’s relentless seam movement, Jasprit Bumrah’s unorthodox brilliance, Bhuvneshwar Kumar’s swing mastery, and the rejuvenated Umesh Yadav formed the backbone of India’s pace battery. Even Ishant Sharma, once written off, found redemption and resurgence under Kohli’s guidance. Later, young firebrands like Mohammed Siraj would carry the mantle forward, fueled by the same aggressive ethos.  

The Fast-Bowler’s Captain  

Kohli’s leadership style meshed seamlessly with his pace unit’s ambitions. In him, they found a captain who relished aggression—a leader who believed that winning wasn’t merely about containment but about dominance. His fast bowlers responded in kind, producing thrillingly hostile spells: late swing at searing speeds, wicked bounce from back-of-length deliveries, and bouncers that snarled like feral beasts.  

The shift was palpable. India, once perceived as a team vulnerable outside Asia, now boasted an attack capable of rattling the best batting lineups in their own backyards. Kohli’s men weren’t just competing—they were conquering. A Test series win in Australia in 2018-19, the first in Indian history, was emblematic of the transformation. And the aura of India’s pace battery became a thing of folklore, reshaping how Indian cricket would be viewed for generations to come.  

Legacy Beyond Numbers  

Many argue that Kohli merely benefited from a system that had begun nurturing fast-bowling talent before his tenure. But recognizing potential and moulding it into something extraordinary is an art not every leader masters. Kohli did. He not only deployed his resources effectively but also instilled belief—belief that India could win anywhere, against anyone, and in any conditions.  

He also returned Test cricket to the centre stage, breathing new life into the longest format with his unapologetic passion for the game. Kohli’s India didn’t play to draw or delay—they played to dominate. His team chased victories with a fervour that made every Test series feel like a contest of consequence.  

Great captains do more than win matches; they leave behind a culture. Kohli’s tenure set a new benchmark for intensity, preparation, and ambition. And though his tenure ended, his shadow lingers—every fast bowler charging in with menace, every batter walking out with swagger, carries a bit of Kohli’s essence with them.  

The Path Ahead  

It is now up to the next skipper to carry forward this legacy. Maintaining such a high standard will be daunting. Kohli’s era was one of constant elevation—of breaking new ground and redefining limits. The expectations will weigh heavily on his successor, but the blueprint is clear: play fearlessly, aim high, and never settle.  

The question isn’t just whether the next captain can replicate Kohli’s numbers but whether they can uphold the culture he cultivated—a culture where the pursuit of excellence never rests and where the impossible is merely another challenge to be embraced.  

Kohli's reign wasn’t just about wins or records—it was a manifesto for modern cricket. And like all great legacies, it will remain etched in the annals of the game, inspiring those who dream, dare, and lead.

Thank You

Faisal Caesar 

Bangladesh Cricket at Crossroads: The Exit of Ottis Gibson is a Big Loss

 

Ottis Gibson’s cricketing journey has always been about leaving an indelible impact. Whether as a player or a coach, Gibson’s career is marked by resilience, innovation, and a fierce determination to succeed. His contributions, both on and off the field, underscore the depth of his character and his unwavering commitment to the game.

The Player: A Heart Full of Fire

As a player, Gibson was a hard-hitting late middle-order batter and a medium-fast bowler who delivered some of the most memorable performances in cricket. Despite facing injuries and limited opportunities in Test cricket, he made his presence felt in One-Day Internationals (ODIs). In his 15-match ODI career, Gibson’s top score of 52 against Australia and best bowling figures of 5/42 against Sri Lanka highlighted his potential. He achieved another five-wicket haul and two four-wicket spells, finishing with an impressive bowling average of 18.26.

One of his most iconic performances came in first-class cricket when he took 10 wickets for 47 runs against Hampshire, joining the elite group of bowlers to achieve this feat. In the County Championship, his exploits with both bat and ball, including a Player of the Match performance for Durham in the Friends Provident Trophy, showcased his all-round brilliance. Gibson’s ability to rise to the occasion made him a formidable presence on the field.

The Coach: A Catalyst for Change

Transitioning into coaching, Gibson’s impact became even more profound. As England’s bowling coach, he played a pivotal role in the evolution of their attack. Stuart Broad credited Gibson for transforming his approach against left-handers, emphasizing round-the-wicket bowling and exploiting the crease. Under Gibson’s guidance, England’s bowlers, including James Anderson, Ben Stokes, and Mark Wood, reached new heights.

When Gibson took charge of South Africa’s bowling unit, he nurtured talents like Kagiso Rabada, Lungi Ngidi, and Anrich Nortje. Rabada’s rise to become the world’s No. 1 bowler was a testament to Gibson’s mentorship, as was the emergence of Ngidi and Nortje as formidable pacers. Gibson’s philosophy of empowering young bowlers while addressing their weaknesses proved invaluable.

Bangladesh: A Short but Significant Tenure

Gibson’s stint as Bangladesh’s bowling coach was brief but transformative. He identified and developed promising fast bowlers like Ebadot Hossain, Taskin Ahmed, and Shoriful Islam. His emphasis on fitness, technique, and mental toughness brought out the best in them. Ebadot’s historic performance in New Zealand and Taskin’s resurgence were direct outcomes of Gibson’s guidance. Shoriful, too, blossomed under his mentorship, becoming an effective new-ball partner.

However, Gibson’s tenure ended abruptly, raising questions about the management of Bangladesh cricket. Despite his evident success, his contract was not renewed, a decision emblematic of deeper issues within the system.

The Syndication Problem

Bangladesh cricket’s administration has long been criticized for being influenced by syndication—a network of senior players, local coaches, and officials leveraging political and media connections to maintain control. This environment has driven away several high-calibre coaches, including Chandika Hathurusingha, Steve Rhodes, and now Ottis Gibson. Such politics undermine progress and discourage merit-based decision-making.

Insiders suggest that this syndication prioritizes personal interests over the team’s growth. The reluctance to renew Gibson’s contract, despite his success, reflects a short-sighted approach that prioritizes maintaining the status quo over fostering long-term development.

The Bigger Picture

Gibson’s departure is a loss for Bangladesh cricket and the sport as a whole. His ability to identify and nurture talent and his fearless honesty made him a rare asset. Yet, his exit highlights a systemic issue that threatens to stifle the growth of Bangladesh cricket. If this trend continues, the country risks losing more valuable contributors, jeopardising its cricketing future.

In the long run, the persistence of syndication will only harm Bangladesh cricket. True progress requires embracing meritocracy, fostering transparency, and prioritizing the team’s success over individual agendas. Ottis Gibson’s story serves as both an inspiration and a cautionary tale—a reminder of what can be achieved when talent and integrity are given the space to thrive, and what is lost when they are not.

Thank You

Faisal Caesar 

Bangladesh rise from the ashes

Our brightest blazes of gladness are commonly kindled by unexpected sparks.

Samuel Johnson

 

Playing Test cricket had become a torture-tale for Bangladesh in the last year and if we consider their performance away from home then it has been a story of disgrace and heartbreaks. Even though there had been shining moments, sadly, they just get overshadowed by the number of defeats and dismal displays. After the frustrating performances last year, the Tigers were scrapping the bottom of the barrel of fortunes in Test cricket. It was time to rise from the ashes; it was time to hit the punch above your weight.

Bangladesh does not have fond memories of New Zealand since they started touring the beautiful country back in 2001-02. Their first-ever tour was nightmarish and apart from some individual flashes of brilliance, Bangladesh stood no chance against New Zealand. And, the outcome was expected the same before the commencement of the first Test at Mount Maunganui.

Cricket is known as the game of glorious uncertainty and when the unexpected happens, it triggers varied emotions – motivates a unit that is suffering from self-confidence, lifts the spirit and histories are created when the unexpected happens.

At times, cricketing fortunes can take by the horns while at times, it is better to let the guardian angel guide the way when darkness prevails – the ride might be bumpy – still, resilience helps a lot during such moments and light is seen at the end of the tunnel – the darkness gives away to a ray of hope, the hope to unite and fight back – gradually, the unexpected becomes expected.

Planning is useful, but the most interesting times in life come from moments that catch you by surprise.

Bangladesh’s majorly low-key performances and with the absence of top players like Shakib Al Hasan and Tamim Iqbal – had reduced them to a third-string side that can be hammered by any top tier sides within a few days and for the World Test Champions, it should have been a cakewalk.

History was created at Mount Maunganui and it was Bangladesh who added another feather to their less illustrious Test history by bringing an end to New Zealand’s 17-match unbeaten run at home in Test matches. The Champions were dominated by a unit that had played with the intent to win from Day 1 and astonishingly, Bangladesh – a team that was beaten within two days of a rain-affected Test match last month – beat New Zealand in all the departments.

The key to Bangladesh’s success was discipline and patience. Both with the bat and ball, they had been resolved and never dropped their shoulders throughout the five intriguing days.

Ebadot Hossain, Taskin Ahmed, Shoriful Islam and Mehidy Hasan Miraz showed the importance of bowling with a tighter line while the batters – Nazmul Hossain, Mominul Hoque, Mahmudul Hasan and Liton Das showed how important occupying the crease could be - leaving the ball is equally important as playing your shots and runs will come if you spend time at the crease.

A team which is known for their lack of interest in playing the longer formats, the exhibition of the basics of Test cricket by them, not only surprised everyone but at the same, earned a lot of accolades from their harsh critics.

Bangladesh have risen from the ashes and this bright performance should not be overshadowed by strings of defeats – consistency is expected so that victories in Test matches against the top sides don’t become an unexpected one – we do want moments of happiness that would not take us by surprise. 

Note: This article has been posted at Cricketsoccer on 05/01/2022 Bangladesh rise from the ashes

Thank You

Faisal Caesar